


Fear Itself

by pterosounds, weaponizedmoose



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 50s au, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Minor Character Death, Other, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Red Scare AU, Slight Elsie/Carmilla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterosounds/pseuds/pterosounds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaponizedmoose/pseuds/weaponizedmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the height of McCarthyism, nobody was safe from police scrutiny. As the watchful eyes of those around them attempt to find anything unholy or un-American, Laura and Carmilla must keep their love a secret as their relationship evolves from roommates to lovers. However, as the end of their senior year of college approaches, something steers those watchful eyes towards them and their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Riveting Tale Uncovered

**Author's Note:**

> Happy one year anniversary of the conception of this fic! This note is going to serve as a blanket content warning. Writing for this time period, and specifically with the subject matter we chose to base the story on (the Red Scare), means there is going to be period-typical homophobia, racism, sexism, anti-Semitism, etc.  
> We will have chapter-specific content warnings when relevant, which will include, but are not limited to, alcohol/drug mention, graphic violence, and minor character death.  
> Please enjoy a year's worth of hard work. Y'all are in for a wild ride!  
> Love, Scarlett and Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“‘It looks like someone’s creativity took an inconvenient jump off a bridge.’”_  
>  /  
>  _“‘Where’s Hardy, anyways?’”_  
>  /  
>  _“‘You’re such a butt!’”_  
>  /  
>  _“‘Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?’_  
>  _“Of course, that clarified nothing.”_

 

“So, Laura,” Danny grunted. “Where, exactly, did you find this couch?”

She took a step backward up the steps of the two-story house and groaned as the floral couch slipped from her hands. It was hideous. 

“My pop’s old neighbor died, they had an estate sale for her stuff. Pretty cheap, too,” Laura heaved out, occupied enough by her box of books.

“I can’t imagine why,” muttered LaFontaine, who was holding the other end of the couch. “It looks like someone’s creativity took an inconvenient jump off of a bridge. Did the lady die on the couch, too?”

“Oh, goodness, I hope not,” Laura gasped, as Danny lifted the couch again and backed into the doorway.

“Would you hurry up?” called LaFontaine. “I haven’t even gotten up the first step of the porch and my arms are about to give out.”

“That’s because you aren’t doing this right!” Danny snapped back. Had LaFontaine never done this before? People don’t usually carry heavy things at chest height with elbows out.

“Susan, please don’t hurt yourself!” Perry shouted from inside the house.

LaFontaine sighed. “How do you suggest I do this, then?!”

“Lift with your legs!”

Danny and Laura exchanged an exasperated look as their friends bickered.

“If you know how to do this, then why aren’t you carrying the couch?” LaFontaine said brusquely.

Perry huffed and turned her annoyance to Danny. “Why exactly are we the ones lugging around your furniture? Where are your other two housemates?” Danny glared at her.

“Danny!” yelled LaFontaine. “Get your ass into the house!”

“Fine!” Danny responded with equal frustration. She dropped the couch, grabbed another box of books, and walked past a shocked-looking Perry and said, “They’re probably still on their way. Elsie lives in Waukesha.”

In all honesty, Danny had her suspicions of why her friend was late, but she wasn’t at any discretion to mention them.

Perry frowned at Danny. “I always end up doing all of this by myself!” she sighed and walked over to the couch, lifting it up.

“By yourself?” Danny heard LaFontaine say, exasperated. “Really? You’re doing this by yourself right now?”

Danny carried the box the steps and down the hall to the furthest upstairs bedroom, dropping it at the door. The room had a bay window overlooking Hackett Avenue, and she gazed down at the chaos unfolding in the yard. Frowning at the sight of LaFontaine throwing a small floral pillow towards the front door, presumably at Perry, she opened the window.

“Hey! Get back to work!” she shouted, and then sighed, wondering if asking Laura’s friends to help them move into their house was the wisest idea. She doubted the process went any faster than it would have if it had been only Laura and her. The last year of college was off to a rocky start.

Danny closed the window and headed back downstairs.

As she approached the front door, she regretted not staying in the room.

“So I guess now we can’t get in  _ or _ out, then?” she said as she gestured to the couch wedged halfway through the front door. Laura and her friends had apparently opted to just start stacking boxes on the sofa instead of trying to get the hideous piece of furniture actually into the house.

She peeked around the couch and saw Perry sitting on the front steps with a tight-lipped smile. “I  _ told _ them to just listen to me!” she whispered. “I  _ told _ them, and now look where we are!”

“Shut up, Perr, if we’d done it your way, the three of us would be in the hospital,” LaFontaine snapped.

“Isn’t there a back door to this house?” Danny asked. “Maybe we could get it in that way.”

LaFontaine stared at her and exclaimed, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

 

~~~

 

Later that night, Laura was cooking dinner. “Set the table for four, Danny. Surely your friends will want dinner if they show up tonight.”

“Yeah,” Danny scoffed. “If.” Regardless, she placed four plates around the table. Danny’s friends had better get here quickly. This was one flipping good chicken pot pie. Actually, if they never showed up at all, maybe there would be seconds for tomorrow.

The two of them were halfway done with the dinner when two girls stumbled in through the door, obviously drunk. The dark-haired one, who had slammed the door open and was clearly the more inebriated of the two, had her arm around the blonde.

Laura was up in a heartbeat, her fork pointed at the intruders. “Excuse me, but who the hell are you?”

“Whoa, Laura, relax!” Danny put herself between Laura and the other girls. “It’s only Elsie and her friend, um…”

“Carmilla,” the brunette said, smirking. “I’m your new roommate, sweetheart.”

“ _ You? _ ” Laura blurted.

“Laura,” warned Danny. “Be nice.”

“Didn’t your mom teach you manners?” Carmilla snickered.

Laura gasped, glared at Carmilla, and spat, “Why you—!”

“ _ Laura _ ,” Danny stressed, grabbing Laura’s shoulder and patting her back to calm her down. “Calm  _ down _ .”

Carmilla chuckled as Laura put her arm down, though Laura’s glare intensified.

“Please, sit down,” Danny said. “Laura made us some dinner.”

The blonde, Elsie, disentangled herself from her other friend and took a seat at the table. “Thanks,” she muttered. “I’m Elsie.” She giggled quietly.

“Nice to meet you, Elsie,” Laura said, still glaring at Carmilla.

“Relax and listen to your friend, cutie, I’m not going to murder your puppy,” Carmilla mocked as she, too, took a seat at the table and immediately started piling the pot pie onto her plate. 

“I never said you were going to—and I don’t have a—!” Laura shouted.

“This is good,” Carmilla interrupted as she took a bite. “Possibly the best chicken pot pie I’ve had.”

Laura stared at Carmilla. She finally sighed and looked down at her food. “Thanks,” she mumbled, thinking to herself that perhaps this girl isn’t so bad after all. Carmilla couldn’t possibly know about her mother.

A silence fell on the room.

“So,” Laura tried, “What are your majors?”

Carmilla stopped chewing to stare at Laura, and eventually she said, “Mine is philosophy and Elsie’s is German,” and continued eating.

“Cool,” nodded Laura. “Mine is Journalism and Danny’s is English.”

“Oh,” Carmilla droned, allowing another silence to pass.

Laura tried again. “Where did you come from?”

Carmilla paused once more and stated, “Waukesha.”

“What were you doing there?”

Carmilla sighed loudly and said, “Don’t you ever just  _ shut up _ ?”

“Hey!” Danny protested, standing abruptly. “Don’t you speak to her like that!”

“Danny, they’ve probably had a really long day,” Laura reasoned. “Calm down.”

“You were yelling at her as soon as she walked in, and now you’re defending her?!” Danny said, exasperated. “She just insulted you!”

“Like I said, they probably had a long day.” Laura grabbed Danny’s hand and tugged her back into her seat.

Elsie stood up. “I’m going to bed,” she said, and looked down at Carmilla.

“Way to condescend,  _ Laurel _ ,” Carmilla sneered, paying no attention to Elsie. “Where’s Hardy, anyways? Or is that the ginger?”

“I’m surprised you know who Laurel and Hardy are, given your lack of—” Danny started.

“ _ Danny _ ,” Laura intoned.

“I’m  _ going to bed _ ,” repeated Elsie, staring at Carmilla pointedly.

“Elsie, I’m trying to—Wait, what do you mean, you’re surprised?! You can barely even talk and move at the—” Carmilla argued.

“Fine!” yelled Elsie. “I get it! I’ll just sleep by myself then!”

The room was stunned into silence as Elsie stormed up the stairs. Laura and Danny glanced at each other and at Carmilla as Carmilla blinked in shock.

Carmilla sighed once again, set down her fork, and followed Elsie up the stairs.

As the footsteps faded and two consecutive door slams were heard, Laura cleared her throat.

“So, that was weird,” she remarked.

“I still can’t believe you sided with her,” Danny grumbled.

“She probably just had a long day, is all,” Laura replied.

“You’re just happy she loved your mom’s recipe, Laura,” retorted Danny.

Laura shrugged.

“And seriously, who meets their housemates drunk?!”

Laura shrugged again.

 

~~~

 

Laura had always found herself drawn to fiction. Reading always relaxed her after a stressful day, and that day was nothing if not stressful, and that called for extreme measures. She grabbed her mom’s old copy of  _ The Hobbit _ and went outside to sit on the porch. This was a new beginning, so she decided to start right at Chapter One.

As she read about Bilbo’s morning and the wizard Gandalf’s arrival in Hobbiton, the front door swung open and Carmilla strolled out. She didn’t seem to notice Laura sitting on the bench as she leaned on the railing and lit a cigarette. Laura looked up from her book, her nose scrunching up in disgust as the smell of the smoke wafted over to her.

“Do you mind?” she spoke up.

Carmilla merely glanced at her through the corner of her eye. “No. You reading won’t bother me.” She took another drag and made a point of exhaling in Laura’s direction.

Laura flinched and coughed. Carmilla smirked at her and turned to face the street again. Laura sighed. Some people are just butts.

“That dinner was...something,” she said.

“Yes,” Carmilla stated. “It was a dinner.”

“Were you being serious about liking the pot pie?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you could just be saying it to…” she trailed off.

Laura saw Carmilla raise her eyebrows as she took a drag.

“I don’t know,” Laura finished.

“Exactly, buttercup,” Carmilla said, rolling her eyes. “Stop acting like a wet mop. Where’s that fire I saw earlier?”

“Excuse me?” Laura scoffed. “Why are you being so rude right now?”

“Well  _ maybe _ it’s because I wanted to talk about something  _ interesting _ instead of the inane drivel you insist on spouting.”

“I’m just trying to talk to you!” Laura exclaimed. “I barely know you! How am I supposed to know what you find interesting?! Also, that’s so rude!”

“Whatever, kitten.”

“ _ Kitten?! _ ”

“Yes, kitten.” Carmilla exhaled another puff of smoke at Laura.

“You’re such a butt! And could you please stop smoking?! It makes you smell like crap!”

Carmilla laughed. “Language, cutie.” She dropped the remains of her cigarette on the porch before putting it out with the toe of her boot.

“ _ Thank _ you!” Laura said, exasperated.

“I didn’t do it for you. Goodnight.” And with that, she walked back inside, leaving Laura on the porch.

Laura sighed. What was that conversation? Her confusion mounted as she stared at the pile of ash on the porch. Kitten?  _ I didn’t do it for you?! _ What on Earth…?

She opened her book back up, hoping that perhaps Middle Earth would help her make sense of the day, as it always had.  _ The Hobbit _ , her faithful companion.

_ “What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?” _

Of course, that clarified nothing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Find us on Tumblr at carmunism.tumblr.com (Scarlett) and stealth-mountain.tumblr.com (Mark).
> 
> Next update: Saturday, February 27.


	2. Free Sweets Bring In More Churchgoers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh, I guess I’ll just have to go without some of Laura Hollis’ hot dish.”_  
>  /  
>  _“The one who lit that tree on fire was a ginger, Laura.”_  
>  /  
>  _"In your dreams, Dick."_  
>  /  
>  _“Oh no, smoking’s gross! Oh no, Carmilla’s mean! Am I close?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Homophobia, misgendering, slurs, sexism, spoilers for _The Hobbit._

Free baked goods were a quick way to get Laura Hollis to attend any function. The added benefit of making her father happy only made it even more worth it (and a little less selfish). However, the cookies still came at a price, and that price was attending church. Laura could grin and bear it most days, usually zoning out as the preacher droned out the prayers, but that day’s sermon made her habit difficult.

“As you all know,” Father Sheridan began, “there is a blight among humanity that no cure has been discovered for: homosexuality.”

Laura rolled her eyes and sighed. She tried to focus on the designs of the columns, but she’d already memorized them.

“As children of Christ, we must do our part and help these sinners find their way to God. If they will not let us, then we must aid our Lord in their retribution!”

Laura turned to look at her father. He had a critical expression on his face, but listened nonetheless.

“‘What is the danger in these people?’ you may ask. Paul tells us in First Corinthians: they will not inherit the Kingdom of Heaven! Their inner nature causes their own damnation! They are dangerous to society as a whole as well! They corrupt anything that they touch. May the Lord protect you should you ever happen upon one, for He knows how insidious is their disease. Now, God is merciful. He gives these people, these dangerous souls, a chance at righteous salvation!”

Laura’s eyes widened.

“Yes, he has! Many treatments today have been proven to give these individuals reprieve from the corruption of their souls. The Brits prefer to chemically castrate their lot by giving them estrogen. Another popular treatment is removing their testes. I say, be done with that! The kindest, most merciful thing to be done is to reprogram their wills through this treatment I heard of the other day, electroshock therapy.”

Bile rose in the back of Laura’s throat, and for the first time in her life, she was questioning if the cookies were worth it.

“This therapy not only takes away from their homosexual leanings, but, indeed, also turns them into normal, everyday citizens that can have a productive and loving family life.”

Laura gagged. She could barely breathe. She had to get away from this place, and the bathroom seemed like the furthest and safest option. Her father turned to look at her as she left the pew. Mrs. Harrison, the old widow from the pew behind them, gave Laura a pitying smile as she rushed past and through the doors of the foyer.

“Merciful salvation indeed, for those men and women tortured by the Lord…” Father Sheridan’s voice grew fainter and fainter as she made her way to the restrooms.

Laura ran down the steps and slammed open the bathroom door. She made it into a stall and began retching into the commode. Thank goodness she decided to follow pre-Eucharistic fast. She found that it always made the cookies and punch that much sweeter, but this week it had the added benefit of not having anything in her stomach to throw up.

Her stomach rumbled as she took deep breaths and sat down, leaning her head against the toilet and her back against the wall. Gross, yes, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The cool porcelain of the bowl helped soothe her heart rate.

If anyone suspected anything from her reaction…She didn’t want to think about that. Being a lesbian was her own burden to bear. Surely even some straight people found electrocution and castration absolutely horrifying.

“Miss Laura, dear?” Mrs. Harrison said from outside the bathroom door. “Are you alright? You looked a little pale.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she called back, trying to keep her voice from sounding weak. “Just a little faint. I, um, didn’t have enough for dinner yesterday, and you know, the fast…”

The elderly woman tsked. “Well, doesn’t Marcus feed you a hearty Saturday dinner?”

“I’m in college, Mrs. Harrison. I live with three other women.”

As soon as it was out of her mouth, she wondered if that sounded as suspect as she thought it did. Mrs. Harrison wasn’t dumb; she was one of the more vigilant members of their congregation.

Laura’s breathing shallowed again as she waited for a response.

“Well, I,” Mrs. Harrison said carefully. “I imagine at least one of you knows how to cook.”

Laura opened her mouth to respond, but the risk of squeaking out a terrified response was too much.

Mrs. Harrison started laughing. “Oh, Laura! You poor child. Next Saturday, why don’t you come to my place? I’ll cook you a nice ham casserole you can bring home to your friends, and I’ll serve you some of my specialty orange-cranberry relish mold!”

Laura gagged again, but not from nerves this time. Mrs. Harrison’s relish mold was famed across town for being the most disgusting thing anyone had ever made, but nobody had told her yet.

Mrs. Harrison’s voice turned concerned again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Harrison, thank you! I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Oh, child,” Mrs. Harrison said doubtfully. “I’ll leave you be, I suppose. Make sure not to miss the Eucharist!”

After the other woman left, Laura managed to calm herself down and get back into the cathedral just in time for communion. She dazed off for the remainder of Mass, mechanically standing, sitting, and kneeling.

As the singers confidently belted the final note of _O Come, All Ye Faithful_ , and Mrs. Harrison stubbornly sang _Adeste Fideles_ behind Laura’s pew, Laura quickly shut her hymnal and put it in the rack. Her dad tapped her shoulder.

“Laura, I have to be at the station in half an hour. Do you want me to give you a ride back to your house, or do you want to walk?”

In other words, free cookies or spend even more time with Carmilla? Laura didn’t think that was a question even worth thinking about.

“I can walk back home, thanks though. Have a good time at work!”

He smiled. “Thanks, kiddo. I’ll see you next Sunday.”

“8 o’clock!”

“As always.”

He hugged her. “I love you, kid. Good luck with your classes tomorrow.”

“Love you too, Dad. Thanks.”

He let go and walked past the crowd of elderly ladies swarming the punch and cookies table—the crowd Laura was about to fight through to get to her prize.

As she neared the table, determined to get her cookies, she was cornered by Mr. and Mrs. Harrison and their friends.

“Are you quite sure you’re feeling all right, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am, I told you, I was just feeling a bit light headed from not eating…” Laura trailed off, wringing her hands.

“I’m sure the homily mustn’t have helped much, either,” Mrs. Harrison said.

“Oh, um, yes,” Laura said nervously.

“Homosexuals disgust me as well, but it’s important for young women like you to know about them,” another elderly woman, Mrs. Lambert, chimed in. “You need to be careful, else you may be pursued by someone like a _dyke_.”

Laura shifted to the side, and saw an opening to the punch table. “Excuse me, I’ll just go get some cookies…”

“Now, dear, wait a minute,” said Mrs. Harrison, grabbing Laura’s hand. “There’s something the priest did not address that is important for all of us to know.”  
“I think—” Laura began, but Mrs. Harrison cut her off.

“I heard that the communists have gotten to the homosexuals!” she whispered conspiratorially. The others gathered around hummed and nodded, one man speaking up. “Damn Reds. Bad enough that they want to take away everything American, they want to take it further and promote some unholy agenda. Fags love anarchy. It’s the only way they’d be able to act out their perversion without repercussions.”

“We ought to arrest them all!” said Mrs. Lambert.

“Arrest and execute them!” Mr. Calloway huffed. “None of that pussy—”

“Robert!” his wife gasped. “Language! The Lord is watching!”

“All homosexuals?” Laura asked weakly.

“Well absolutely,” Mrs. Harrison answered. “There’s no telling which ones have aligned themselves with the Ruskies, and then which ones would even be worthy or capable of correction.”

Laura coughed. “I’m going to go get some punch,” she said, and broke away from the group.

She should have taken the ride home.

 

~~~

 

Laura huffed as she marched through the door. She sat down heavily on the couch, completely unaware of Carmilla and Elsie jumping away from one another.

Carmilla cleared her throat as Laura closed her eyes, rubbing her face with her hands.

“Rough day already?” Carmilla asked.

“Church,” Laura grunted.

Carmilla snorted, and Laura glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Splendid.”

“Hey, Carmilla.” Elsie drawled. “Want to continue our, uh, _planning_ up in my room?”

“What are you planning for?” Laura asked, and Carmilla and Elsie responded at once.

“Oh, this and that—” Elsie began.

“Well, aren’t _you_ nosy,” Carmilla interrupted, but despite the rude tone, her characteristic smirk was plastered across her face.

The two girls stood up and walked upstairs, sharing hushed whispers that Laura couldn’t discern. Not that she really cared. The two of them were weird.

 

~~~

 

“Mmm, what’s for dinner today?” Danny said as she walked into the kitchen that night.

Laura grinned as she took the pan out of the oven. “I made a hot dish! Chicken hot dish.”

 _Hot dish?_ Danny giggled. “Excuse me, what did you just say?”

“Hot dish?” Laura said, confused.

“It’s called a casserole!”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Danny.”

“Where did you grow up, Fargo?”

“Be quiet or you aren’t getting any.”

“Oh, I guess I’ll just have to go without some of Laura Hollis’ hot dish.” Danny snickered, earning her a smack with an oven mitt.

“That’s just vulgar, Lawrence!”

Danny cackled as she sat down at the table.

“Um, Danny? We aren’t eating yet,” Laura said.

“Why not?” Danny asked, her hand hovering over the handle of the serving spoon.

“We should wait for our housemates. I made enough for them too.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. _This girl genuinely thought the best of everyone, didn’t she?_  “Laura, I don’t think they’re home.”

“Carmilla! Elsie! Dinner’s ready!” Laura called, regardless.

There was no response.

“See, they’re not home,” Danny said triumphantly. “We should eat, I’m hungry.”

“Let’s wait for them to come home, then.”

Danny rolled her eyes but stood back up. “Okay, then, I guess we wait.” She grabbed a book she had been reading off of the kitchen counter before returning to her chair at the table.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you sit on the couch yet,” Laura said thoughtfully.

Danny nodded. “You’re right, I haven’t even touched that thing.”

“Why?” asked Laura.

“Because it’s fu—”

 _“Language,_ Danny Lawrence,” Laura interrupted.

Danny rolled her eyes. “Because it’s _really_ ugly and a woman potentially _died_ on it, Laura.”

“It’s really comfortable, though, I swear. You should try it out.”

An hour passed with no sign of their other roommates, and eventually Laura relented.

“Your ‘hot dish’ isn’t so hot now, is it?” Danny teased.

“Shut up.”

“Ooh, Laura, language!”

Instead of responding, Laura took a bite of her casserole.

“What do you think Elsie and her friend are doing?” Danny wondered out loud.

“I don’t know. I hope they’re okay though,” Laura said, chewing her food.

Danny didn’t respond, choosing to eat some more of her food. Elsie and Carmilla were probably drinking some bartender under the table or something of the sort. Danny wouldn’t be surprised if that was what Elsie did with Carmilla on weekends, and if it was why she came home so drunk on weekends. Elsie had mentioned Carmilla before, but Danny hadn’t managed to connect a face to the name.

Speaking of which…

“Hey, is it just me, or does Elsie’s friend look a bit…familiar?”

Laura laughed as she cut her food. “You really don’t remember? She’s the one from the station party. On Independence Day.”

Danny frowned. “The one who lit that tree on fire was a ginger, Laura.”

“No, the other one,” Laura said as she took a bite. “The one who crashed the cruiser”

Danny had chosen to take a sip of her water at the wrong time. She choked at the memory. “Oh my God, you’re right. The commissioner was furious, wasn’t he?”

The two of them laughed as they remembered the cookout. It had been quite the event.

“Our dads are going to hate her,” Laura chuckled.

Meanwhile, on the edge of the woods just outside of town, Carmilla had Elsie pinned against a tree, leftovers from their trip to a burger joint abandoned in a stolen car nearby.

 

~~~

 

“How were your first two days of classes, Frosh?” LaFontaine bumped Laura’s shoulder, interrupting her thoughts of schoolwork and causing her to jump slightly. “You didn’t look like you were with us. Are you sure you wanna be here? Perr would understand if you wanted to—”

“I’m fine!” Laura insisted. “Just thinking about projects, is all.”

“Projects? Wasn’t the first day yesterday? Live a little, Hollis.”

“Well, yes,” Laura laughed softly. “But today I got a huge list of assignments for the whole semester, and I have a small paper due Friday and I—I’m rambling, sorry.”

LaFontaine clapped her on the back. “It’s Tuesday. Friday is three days from now. Don’t even worry about it until tomorrow. For now, cake!”

Perry emerged from the kitchen with a cake and brought it into the living room. “What is she telling you now, Laura?”

“Nothing big, I just have a small paper due Friday and she said not to worry too much,” Laura said distractedly, eyeing the cake.

“Susan!” Perry scolded. She turned to Laura. “Don’t listen to her. Senior year is important, Laura.”

An eye roll from LaFontaine. “Relax, Laura, it’s a _small_ paper. And senior year may be the hardest, but it’s also the easiest, in a way. Know what I mean?”

Laura nodded. “I suppose so.” _How could it be both the hardest and the easiest?_ she wondered.

“Good,” LaFontaine said. “And now, cake!”

“Oh, I forgot a knife,” Perry scolded herself. She turned around to go back to the kitchen as Danny walked out.

“Don’t worry, I brought one!” Danny held up the knife.

Perry scowled at Danny. “You brought the wrong one,” she said, and continued, snatching the offending cutlery out of Danny’s hand as she passed.

LaFontaine’s eyes rolled again but a smile emerged. “Just watch, she’s going to bring one that’s identical to the one you did.”

“I heard that!” the group heard from the kitchen, and Perry walked back out, fulfilling LaFontaine’s prediction: the knife was not any different, as far as Laura could see.

“So! The cake?” Laura asked eagerly, and LaFontaine nodded in agreement.

“Laura, shouldn’t we wait for Susan’s husband and Perry’s fiancé?” Danny said, and then whispered to Laura, “I forgot their names already.”

“Oh yeah, right,” LaFontaine said. There was a hint of hostility and disappointment in the statement, and Laura hoped Danny didn’t notice.

“Susan is married to James, but we all call him JP, and Perry’s fiancé is Theo,” Laura whispered back.

“They went out to get more refreshments. They should be back any minute now.” Perry gave them a tight-lipped smile as she placed the cake down on the table.

“Speak of the devil!” LaFontaine laughed as two men barged in through the front door, arms full of groceries.

“Sorry about the tardiness,” a familiar British accent sounded from the entrance.

“Hello, JP!” Laura waved at him and gave Danny a pointed look as if to say ‘ _please remember their names this time.’_

The two men unloaded their cargo haphazardly on the table. “We come bearing gifts!” The other man, Theo, said cheerfully.

“What took you two so long?” Perry chastised as she attempted to sort out the mess the two boys made of the table. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

JP and Theo exchanged a playful glance, earning an eyeroll from LaFontaine and a confused look from Danny.

“Let’s just say you can ride shotgun for a while, Lola.” Theo smirked. He continued before his fiancée could give him any more grief. “Got the beer, though! So now it’s a real party!”

Perry looked horrified. “I said this would be a sober event!”

“You’re turning twenty-five, I think you can relax for just one day.” Theo and Perry locked eyes, neither one of them willing to be the first to look away.

“They’re engaged?” Danny whispered to Laura.

Laura paused. She didn’t want to lie to her best friend, but what could could she do? She nodded.

LaFontaine seemed to notice the predicament and jumped between Perry and Theo. “Who wants cake?”

The tension died slightly, and Laura let out a sigh of relief.

“Did we come during some huge fight between the four of them, or are they always like this?” Danny asked quietly.

Laura rubbed the back of her neck and let out a nervous laugh. “I uh…it’s hard to explain their dynamic.”

“Are we going to sing for the birthday girl?” Theo said, bitterness in his voice as he opened a bottle of beer.

“Wonderful idea!” JP pitched in, and before any more arguments could start, the group started to sing.

As the song wrapped up, Perry smiled a genuine smile before meticulously cutting into the cake.

“I want the biggest slice!” Theo laughed.

Perry’s smile dropped. “They are all going to be the same size, Theodore,” Perry said through gritted teeth. She finished cutting the plate into six equally-sized pieces.

“Whoa, relax, I was just joking,” Theo said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Sounds like you need something to help you cheer up.” He offered her a bottle of beer. She glared at him as she placed the pieces onto plates.

“Theo!” JP snapped. “It’s her birthday, she can drink if she wants and not drink if she doesn’t want.” He grabbed a plate and shoved it at Theo.

 _“Thank_ you, James,” Perry said, glaring at Theo.

“Are you _sure_ they’re engaged?” Danny whispered to Laura again.

“Danny, just drop it,” Laura sighed, and went moved to get them both a piece of cake.

Everyone focused on eating their cake, not daring to say anything for fear of exacerbating the tension.

Surprisingly, it was Perry that said something first. “I have some ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ set up. Who wants to go first?”

Danny glanced at Laura, mouthing, _Seriously?_ Laura shrugged and mouthed back, _It’s her birthday._

The six of them trudged toward the garage, and LaFontaine volunteered to go first.

As Perry and JP spun LaFontaine around, Laura hoped that Perry’s birthday was at least somewhat enjoyable for her. She knew that it wasn’t pleasant to have to closet yourself, and by bringing Danny, she had shoved five people, including herself, into a closet, when there was no need for it.

 

~~~

 

As Danny walked through the doors of the station with her dad’s lunch the next day, she heard a low whistle. “Who’s that babe walking through the doors today?”

Danny gritted her teeth. “Kirsch,” she said, and glared at the officer sitting at his desk ten feet away.

“You’re Frank’s daughter!” he said, grinning.

“Go away,” she said threateningly.

He couldn’t take a hint. “How ya doin'? Got any of that for me?” he asked, winking.

“Well, I _was_ doing pretty well, but then _you_ had to be here,” she said pointedly, and looked for her father in the sea of desks.

“No need to be that way, dolly,” Kirsch said. She ignored him. “The Major is in a meeting with the Commissioner right now, so you can just give me that—”

Danny snatched the bag away from him as he reached for it.

“Listen, stop talking to me, alright buddy?”

Kirsch bounced his eyebrows. “So we’re buddies now?”

A noise somewhere between annoyance and disgust escaped Danny’s throat as she walked back towards her father’s desk. Just in time, he walked out of the Commissioner’s office.

“Aw, Daniela, you shouldn’t have!” Frank Lawrence beamed as he approached his daughter.

“I actually have time in between classes this year, so I figured I’d use it to bring you lunch. Mom said you’ve been skipping it.

Major Lawrence huffed and crossed his arms. “Your mother—”

“Cares about you very much and doesn’t want you to starve,” Danny interrupted.

Frank shook his head as he lowered himself into his chair and took a look inside of the bag. “Thank you, honey.”

He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. “Have you met my boy Kirsch?” he said with his mouth full.

“Yes, Father. I met him at the Fourth of July party. Unfortunately.” She added the last bit under her breath, and her father either genuinely didn’t hear it, or decided he didn’t.

“He’s a good kid. Good cop, too.” Frank said around another bite. “You should get to know him more. You know, for when you finally get out of school.”

Danny sighed and glanced over at the young officer, who was balancing a pen on his nose. “Dad—”

Before she could try and convince her father that Officer Richard W. Kirsch was not going to be her future husband, a rookie cop she didn’t recognize came up to Frank’s desk. He had dark, slicked back hair and an odd glint in his eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt, Major,” the boy said. “The Commissioner wants to see you again. Just to wrap up that Jenkins case.”

“Thank you, William. Tell him I’ll be right there.” Frank sighed, putting the remainder of his meal back in its bag. “Sorry to cut this short, Daniela.”

“It’s alright, dad. I know you have a full schedule.” She gave her father a quick hug before heading towards the exit.

“Same time next week, babe?” Kirsch called after her.

“In your dreams, Dick.”

“Only my Momma calls me that!” was the last thing Danny heard as the door swung closed behind her.

 

~~~

 

Friday night found Laura back out on the porch. The paper she had been worried about was done, and she allowed herself some personal time to read. She was halfway into the riddle scene with Gollum and Bilbo when she heard the door open.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Laura groaned as Carmilla stepped out, an unlit cigarette between her teeth.

“Lighten up, you little persistence,” the other girl sighed. She pulled a matchbook out and lit her cigarette.

“Seriously? Can’t you do that in the backyard?”

Carmilla looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. Laura hated that expression. It made her feel like _she_ was the one being ridiculous. “Can’t _you_ read back there?”

“I was here first!”

Carmilla laughed lightly as she let out a drag. “That little scrunched up face you make when you’re annoyed is hilarious, buttercup.”

Laura felt her face reacting, and that only served to make her angrier. “Smoking makes you smell disgusting.”

“Doesn’t keep me from having any fun.” Carmilla gave her a salacious grin before drawing in another hit. Laura’s eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head, trying to clear the split-second image of Carmilla’s idea of ‘fun’ out of her mind.

“Well, maybe not all of us want to smell like an ashtray.”

“Maybe not all of us are fucking sourpusses,” Carmilla shot back, and Laura gasped slightly at the curse. “Do you ever stop and think about other people, or do you spend most of your time whining?”

“I do not whine! You don’t even know me!” Laura crossed her arms.

“Oh really? Tell me, who am I?” Carmilla bunched up her face and raised the pitch of her voice. “Oh no, smoking’s gross! Oh no, Carmilla’s mean!" Her voice dropped back to her normal register. "Am I close?”

“Why you—” Laura stood up, her fists bunching up at her sides and her book falling to the floor. She did her best to not care that she lost her spot.

“What are you gonna do to me, shortstack?” Carmilla sneered. “Bite my ankles?”

“You’re only an inch taller than me!” Laura threw her hands in the air, but the other girl’s antagonistic smirk stayed plastered on her face.

The fight slowly leeched out of Laura as she groaned and slouched her shoulders. “Why do I even bother with you? You are an instigator, and I don’t have to deal with this.” She snatched her book off of the ground and stormed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!  
> A note about LaFontaine: they aren't out to themselves yet, and they definitely aren't out to anyone else. This is why all the characters call them by their birth name. This obviously makes them uncomfortable, but they don't really know why. This makes us, the authors (one of whom is trans himself), uncomfortable as well, but as part of the plot, we must include other characters misgendering them. As the point-of-view in this story is third person limited, we will not use "they/them" pronouns, but as we refuse to misgender them in the narrative, we will be avoiding the use of pronouns altogether.  
> Follow us on tumblr: @carmunism (Scarlett) & @stealth-mountain (Mark).


	3. Unlikely Truce Kindled Between Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, absolutely. I honestly thought I was going to scream—”  
> “Sometimes you did.”  
> /  
> “And you’re looking like quite the nosebleed yourself.”  
> /  
> “Or, you know, terrifying, because giant black cat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, life gets in the way sometimes. Regular updates should continue from now on.  
> Chapter warnings: misgendering

“—And that’s not even including the fact that she never shows up to dinner, but then eats all of my leftovers that I saved for myself!” Laura only paused to take a breath. She hadn’t expected to get this worked up when LaFontaine had asked her how home life was going.

The monthly Sunday dinners that Laura shared with Perry and LaFontaine were a tradition almost as old as their friendship. They allowed Laura to go on heated rants, but usually the meals were used for some calm rehashing of their lives so that they could stay in the loop with each other, despite no longer attending the same university.

Laura wondered briefly if her friends had the same problems when they first started living with one another. As if answering her internal dialogue, LaFontaine spoke up for the first time since asking the question.

“Well, Perry and I didn’t exactly get off to the best start ourselves.”

Perry nodded. “Oh, absolutely. I honestly thought I was going to scream—”

“Sometimes you did,” LaFontaine quipped.

Laura choked.

Perry sighed, but a small smile was on her lips. Laura much preferred being around these two without the added stress of Danny, or anyone else who wasn’t privy to the arrangement LaFontaine, Perry, JP, and Theo had. Danny was a kind soul, but even after three years of friendship, Laura wasn’t sure where Danny stood with people like her. Like her friends.

However, that wasn’t something she wanted to think about at the moment, so she focused her energy on complaining about Carmilla more.

“Well, obviously you two are soulmates. It was bound to work out.” Laura sighed. “But Carmilla and I are the polar opposite. We’re more like…soul-enemies. We don’t agree on anything!”

LaFontaine snorted. “I think Perry and I only agree on the fact that she is gorgeous.”

Perry blushed slightly and nudged her partner with her shoulder. “Susan, you’re the gorgeous one.”

LaFontaine grunted and smirked slightly, but looked down at the plate of meatloaf.

“And you’re both something else,” Laura laughed softly.

The three of them ate in a comfortable silence for a while.

“Other than the apparent demon you’re living with, any other smokin’ babes in your classes?” LaFontaine asked as everyone finished.

“You ask that as if Carmilla even has potential in my book,” Laura scoffed.

“You haven’t talked about anything other than her since you walked in the door,” Perry pointed out.

“Because she’s absolutely infuriating!”

“Mmm-hmm,” hummed LaFontaine skeptically. “She’s pretty hot, though.”

“Well…I mean…” Laura stammered. Sure, the way Carmilla held herself in and of itself was enough to give Laura pause. Not to mention the striking combination of fair skin and dark hair that Laura was a little too weak for (she blamed that on Vivien Leigh). “I mean…she is attractive, I will give you that…” She went to take a bite of her food when she paused and narrowed her eyes at LaFontaine. “Wait, you’ve never even met her!”

LaFontaine winked before letting out a loud laugh, and Perry joined in with a softer giggle of her own.

 

~~~

 

The fact that her father was actually at his desk when Danny walked into the Milwaukee Police Station that Wednesday made her release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She attempted to make a beeline straight for her father without any unwelcome conversations, but she’d never been a lucky gal.

“Well well well, look who’s here today!” a grinning Officer Kirsch greeted her. “You’re looking like quite the piece today, all dolled up.”

“And you’re looking like quite the nosebleed yourself,” Danny said, sneering as she walked straight past him and his sleeping colleague. “Dad, your lunch.”

“Thanks, honey.” Frank smiled up at her as she handed him the bagged lunch. “I see you’ve been getting to talk to my boy Kirsch.”

Danny frowned at him. “He’s a pig and doesn’t respect women. Love you!” She turned on her heel.

“Oh, come on! Give him a chance!” Frank called, but she pretended not to hear him as she walked quickly towards the door, hoping for no more comments from Kirsch.

“Wow, look at your pretty face,” he said, winking at her. Alas.

“Wow, look at your ugly face,” she retorted.

“Hey, darling, no need to be like that,” Kirsch said, winking again.

“Watch out, if you keep that up, your eye’s going to fall out.”

Kirsch’s coworker, the rookie officer from last week, groaned. “Could you two keep it down, please?” he said, lifting his head from his desk and squinting at Danny. “Some of us are trying to sleep here.”

“Hey, Will, how you doing?” Kirsch asked.

Will sighed, but smiled slightly at Kirsch. “My sister showed up unexpectedly yesterday and got into some shit with Dad, so I’m tired from all the yelling.” He rubbed his eyes. “How are you doing, Kirsch?”

“What was the Commissioner mad about this time? And hey, watch your language. There’s a lady here,” Kirsch said, throwing a small rubber band ball at Will.

“Fuck off, Kirsch, I know my curses,” Danny growled. Why was she still here? She turned toward the door.

She heard Will start to explain as she walked out. “Honestly, I’m not sure, but Carmilla seemed to be—” The door slammed shut, but Danny was already turning around and going back inside. Carmilla was Will’s sister? “—needs to get married soon, and he told her, but—”

“Did you say Carmilla?” Danny interrupted.

Will raised an eyebrow at her, and she could see it just in that small gesture. “Yeah, why?”

“Does she go to Milwaukee-Downer College?” she asked. 

Will nodded, looking confused.

“And you’re Commissioner Karnstein’s son?”

“What’s this all about?” Will asked, suddenly suspicious.

Danny stared at the two cops before shaking her head and walking back out. Her new roommate was the Police Commissioner’s daughter. That’s why she was at the station party. How had they never met before?

Danny needed to tell Laura as soon as she could.

 

~~~

 

Laura had finished  _ The Hobbit, _ so she grabbed her copy of _ The Jungle Book _ after dinner and trudged downstairs. Her week had been stressful for sure, but she was so tired, not even a smoking Carmilla Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Is could irritate her enough to make her stop reading.

She opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, frowning as she saw the Devil Herself sitting on the steps.

“I was wondering if I would have to put up with you tonight,” Laura grumbled as she sat on her bench.

“Right, because  _ I’m  _ the obnoxious one,” Carmilla replied dryly, not looking up from her own book.

Laura opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but she stopped herself. The other girl was simply trying to get a rise out of her, and Laura was not about to give her the satisfaction. She began to read, but the sound of Carmilla shifting and standing up distracted her.

“What are you reading tonight, cutie? Some trashy pulp novel?”

“Kipling, actually.” Laura squared her shoulders and locked eyes with Carmilla. “This is my second time reading it.”

Carmilla smiled and leaned against the porch railing. “Dark as the pit and terrible as the night was Bagheera.”

Laura couldn’t hold back her snort. “Demon.”

“What?” Carmilla whipped around, anger flashing briefly in her eyes. The sudden and intense motion caused Laura to startle slightly.

“Um, you quoted it wrong. It’s ‘dark as the pit and terrible as a  _ demon _ was Bagheera.’”

Carmilla narrowed her eyes. “I don’t quote things wrong. Give me that.” She snatched the book out of Laura’s hands and flipped through the pages. She muttered the lines to herself and then stopped mid sentence.

“This must be a different edition,” she grumbled and tossed the book back in Laura’s lap.

Laura grinned.  _ “The Second Jungle Book,  _ third edition, by Rudyard Kipling.”

Carmilla crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Regardless, I’ve always thought the line was beautiful.”

“Or, you know, terrifying, because giant black cat,” Laura pointed out.

A small smile graced Carmilla’s lips just briefly, a smile that was very unlike her usual smirk.

Laura cleared her throat and opened her book. She felt Carmilla’s gaze on her for a few more seconds, then Carmilla opened her own book. Laura glanced at it. It was a small book, bound with worn leather.

They sat in silence for a while before Laura’s curiosity got the best of her.

“What’s that?” Laura asked, leaning forward as she tried to get a better look.

Carmilla shook her head. “Nope. Secret.”

It was Laura’s turn to roll her eyes. “Let me guess, some sort of personal, deep, and existential diary.”

“Something like that,” Carmilla replied, removing a loose sheet of paper and scanning her eyes over it before putting it back in the book.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed by,” Laura said. “I keep a journal, too.”

Carmilla clicked her tongue. “Didn’t ask. Don’t ruin the little moment we just had.”

Laura frowned but decided not to take the issue any further. She looked back down at her own book and resumed reading. Carmilla continued occasionally taking out papers, scanning them, and putting them back.

Eventually, Carmilla made her way to the door. “Good night, cupcake.”

“Hey,” Laura called before her housemate went inside. “This was nice, us not bickering. Maybe if we can just be civil with one another, this could be a nice arrangement.”

Carmilla gave her a thoughtful look. “We’ll see. I’m not entirely sure if I hate you yet.” She gave Laura another one of those small smiles and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! Kudos and comments are always welcome.  
> Updates (should be) every Saturday evening.   
> Follow us on tumblr @ carmunism (Scarlett) and stealth-mountain (Mark)


	4. Amateur Reporter Gets Big Scoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I doubt Big Red has even touched this damn ugly thing since they moved in.”_  
>  /  
>  _Laura grabbed two pans from a cupboard and started clanging them together at the oven, but the oven was right: it was too late._  
>  /  
>  _Carmilla smirked. “That’s not the only thing my hands are good at.”_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Misgendering, sexual activity

Danny and Laura were lounging in the living room, Laura on the couch and Danny on the floor because she still refused to touch the furniture. The windows were open, allowing a gentle autumn breeze to flow through the house, and it was the most relaxed Laura had felt in weeks. Probably because neither schoolwork nor Carmilla were within a mile radius of her at the moment. Figuratively speaking, that is. Her books were upstairs, in her room, and she didn’t know where Carmilla was.

She was almost done with  _ The Jungle Book _ when Danny looked up from her own reading.

“I’m starving. Want to head over to that new burger joint for lunch?”

At the mention of food, Laura’s stomach growled loudly, and both girls laughed in response. “I’ll say that’s a yes,” Laura giggled.

As the two of them made their way out of the house, their other housemates were coming up the porch steps.

“Hey shortstuff.” Carmilla nodded in Laura’s direction then leered at Danny. “Tall one.”

“Dingleberry,” Danny shot back as she and Laura passed them. 

Laura gasped. “Danny Lawrence, that’s just gross!” The door slammed shut behind them, but neither one looked back.

“Thank God we decided to leave,” Danny muttered.

Laura simply shrugged. Her opinion on Carmilla had changed slightly since the night before, albeit not enough to completely rule out any animosity, but they seemed to be at an understanding. Mutual respect, perhaps? Laura wasn’t going to dwell on it. Her friendship with Danny was more important than fretting over a girl who rarely gave her the time of day.

“God, they’re so annoying,” Danny commented as they crossed Hackett Avenue.

“Oh my goodness, yes,” Laura sighed. “When I went to eat dinner with Lola and Susan, I spent about ten straight minutes complaining about Carmilla. I talked for  _ ten minutes _ about her annoying habits. They were really bored by the end, honestly.”

“Well, they did ask,” Danny said, raising her eyebrows. “What a nosebleed, right?”

“Well, I don’t know about  _ nosebleed.” _ Laura frowned. “We spent some time together yesterday out on the porch. It was pretty alright. She misquoted Kipling, but she was very confident she was right.”

“That’s strange,” Danny commented. “She wasn’t a bitch at all?”

“Well, she was a little bit. But it was very…not exactly pleasant, but it was alright.”

They walked in silence for a bit. Laura could tell Danny wanted to say something, so when Danny opened her mouth and closed it a second afterward, she asked her what was on her mind.

_ “Did you know that her last name is Karnstein?” _ Danny blurted as they approached the diner.

“No?” Laura held the door open as the two walked in. “And that’s important because…?”

_ “Karnstein,” _ Danny whispered urgently. “As in the Commissioner!”

“Wait. What? As in  _ our dads’ boss _ Karnstein?”

_ “Yes!” _

“Just you two this afternoon?” the diner’s hostess cut in.

“Yes,” Danny and Laura said together.

They continued their conversation in hushed tones as they were lead back to a table.

“That’s…wow,” Laura said, shocked at the coincidence. “That’s weird.”

They both opened their menus and read through the different burgers they could get.

Laura heard Danny gasp behind her menu and shut it quickly. Laura glanced at her and asked, “What did you find?”

Danny’s eyes were wide and she leaned in.  _ “What if she tells her dad everything we do? What if her dad tells our dads? Like a spy for our dads?” _ Danny said in an undertone.

“Don’t be so paranoid, Danny,” Laura scoffed. “When’s the last time you told your dad anything we do? It’s probably the same with her.”

 

~~~

 

Elsie didn’t even have a chance to breathe before Carmilla pushed her against the front door, closing it and effectively separating them from their departing housemates.

Carmilla’s lips trailed up Elsie’s neck as her hands slowly lifted the skirt of Elsie’s dress.

The blonde sighed Carmilla’s name and pulled her hips closer, relishing in the fact that they got this unplanned afternoon alone.

“Someone’s eager,” Carmilla murmured before kissing Elsie. 

Elsie hummed and threw her arms around the other girl’s shoulders. “We don’t get the house to ourselves very often,” she pointed out. “Don’t lie, you’re just as excited to jump my bones.”

“Dear God, stop talking.” 

And she did, for her lips were once again occupied.

They made their way over to the couch, Elsie’s dress and Carmilla’s top getting discarded as they went. Carmilla left a rather large lovebite on the other girl’s neck, much to Elsie’s chagrin, but Elsie couldn’t find it in herself to complain. Especially when Carmilla’s deft fingers were making their way down her stomach and between her thighs. 

The moans that left Elsie’s lips were unabashedly loud, and once again she was glad for the solitude they had. Trying to have sex with people in the house was always difficult. And quiet. It felt nice not having to hold back.

And hold back she did not. Two orgasms later, the two of them collapsed back down on the sofa.

“Danny would kill me if she knew we fucked on the couch,” Elsie laughed breathlessly as she lay naked on top of a similarly unclothed Carmilla.

“I doubt Big Red has even touched this damn ugly thing since they moved in,” Carmilla remarked, tracing the floral pattern with one hand while trailing the other up and down Elsie’s back.

“Do you think they suspect anything?” Elsie asked.

“Between us? Please, they’re both completely oblivious to everything,” Carmilla scoffed. “I could be a creature of the night, keeping young, nubile girls in the basement for my own perverted gain and they would never know.”

Elsie laughed. “Are you telling me that’s not what people like us do?”

Carmilla smirked at the sarcasm. “We  _ are _ moral deviants.”

“Speaking of which!” Elsie gasped. “When are we gonna go on another one of our little adventures?”

“Soon, El.” Carmilla tensed. “Sie. Elsie.”

 

~~~

 

“Laura, we’re ready!” screamed the oven. “We’re ready!” it repeated.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Laura said as she ran downstairs. 

She sprinted into the kitchen as the oven shouted,  _ “It’s too late! It’s too late!”  _

_ “No! No, stop!” _ Laura grabbed two pans from a cupboard and started clanging them together at the oven, but the oven was right: it was too late.

The mouth opened and dozens of muffins poured out, growing bigger and bigger as they danced around Laura.

Just then, Laura heard the screeching of tires as a car crashed through the front door, decimating the couch and headed right towards her. Maybe if she drowned in the muffins she would be saved…

The screeching got louder and eventually changed into a soft melody as Laura awoke, pushing the pillow off of her face. Unfortunately, the sound was not a part of her dream.

Laura groaned. She needed to tell whoever it was to  _ shut up right now.  _ What time was it, anyway?

A quick glance at her bedside clock told her it was just after three in the morning. Wonderful.

She tugged her robe over her nightgown and followed the source of the sound down the stairs, but stopped three steps before the bottom when she realized who it was.

Carmilla stood silhouetted by the moonlight pouring in from the front windows, a violin perched on her shoulder. Her arms were posed dramatically, her fingers deftly holding a vibrato. Laura opened her mouth to say something, but Carmilla’s stance and the melancholy tune coming from the instrument made her pause.

It was beautiful. Everything about that moment, not just the music.

The way Carmilla’s figure was outlined in a faint blue, the way the gentle notes somehow filled the whole room, the tension Laura felt in her held breath, trying everything to keep from shattering the serenity.

Carmilla’s tune shifted dramatically to a quick, upbeat tune that Laura recognized:  _ Flight of the Bumblebee _ by Rimsky-Korsakov. Laura smiled and went to lean against the banister, but as she shifted her weight away from the step and onto the railing, the structure gave a loud creak.

Laura winced as the music came to a stop.

“I told you I’d be right back to bed, Elsie,” Carmilla said in a gentle tone that Laura had not heard from the other woman before.

The way Laura saw it, there were two options laid out in front of her: either turning around and retreating back upstairs, or admitting to her peeping and facing potential wrath from her housemate. However, just as Laura had decided on the former, Carmilla turned around with a small smile that was promptly replaced with a frown as soon as she saw who it was.

“What the hell, Laura?!”

“I can leave, I’m so sorry. I was just about to leave, I’m entirely intruding,” Laura panicked as she backed up the steps. “Look at me leaving right this very second. Good night.” 

She took the stairs two at a time and bolted into her bedroom before Carmilla could even say a word.

 

~~~

 

It’s said that something happening once is chance, twice is coincidence, but three times is a pattern. Friday evenings seemed to become one such pattern as Laura walked out on the porch, journal in hand, and found herself not even remotely surprised by Carmilla’s presence. She did, however, feel a small rush of guilt and embarrassment as she remembered the events of the night before.

Carmilla put out her cigarette, though Laura could tell it wasn’t anywhere close to done.

They stared at each other until Laura looked away. “Hey,” she said in a small voice.

“Hey,” Carmilla replied.

Laura sat down on the bench and opened her journal. She held it up a bit. “See, I have a journal, too.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, but she sat down on the porch steps regardless. “I can see that, cutie. I still didn’t ask.”

Silence stretched between them. Laura glanced at Carmilla, and remembered what Danny had told her on Saturday. When should she bring up the “your dad is my dad’s boss” thing? Or the “I walked in on what seemed to be a private moment” thing. Laura wasn’t the best at judging appropriate times to ask questions. What she was younger, she yelled a lot of embarrassing things while out in public with her father.

She looked down at the journal in her lap, only the date written at the top of the otherwise blank page. The book was less a diary and more a scratchpad for investigation ideas or mock stories. Commissioner Karnstein and his apparent daughter seemed to be all she could think about, so she decided to inflate Danny’s fears into some riveting journalism.

_ The Karnstein Conspiracy _

_ Milwaukee-Downer College, in the heart of America, where nothing, not even Mrs. Harrison’s relish molds disturb the pursuit of knowledge. But under the surface of this placid institute of higher learning lies a sleeping beast: the police. _

Laura paused, wondering if demonizing her father’s livelihood was a good idea. The “story” was just for practice after all, so surely some yellow journalism wasn’t going to hurt her.

Her eyes briefly flitted up to Carmilla, who was just as engrossed in her own book, before Laura continued writing.

_ Commissioner Dean Karnstein of the Milwaukee Police Department rules over his officers with an iron fist and a heart of stone. Personally having been at the forefront of reform throughout the Department required him to make drastic cuts that not everyone was happy with. Known for skirting around the rules while being a hardheaded stickler for them, it comes as no surprise to this reporter that something suspicious but not inherently illegal has been discovered right under her nose. _

“I feel like you’re about to catch fire,” Carmilla spoke up, startling Laura. “You were writing so furiously, I thought I was seeing smoke. What’s so invigorating, cutie? Some deep dark secrets?”

“I thought you didn’t care?” Laura let herself smirk, enjoying having an upper hand with the comebacks for once.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t. I’d just rather not have to clean up your ashes.”

Laura paused. She decided to leave the rest of the journal entry for later and shut the book, marking her place with the pencil.

“Why were you playing violin at three in the morning yesterday?” she asked, leaning back against the house.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I can’t sleep. It helps.”

“Well, when you’re playing, I can’t sleep either,” Laura remarked.

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “That’s nice,” she said, and looked back down at her book.

“You’re really good, you know,” Laura said. “I don’t play violin, but the way you were holding that vibrato…”

Carmilla smirked. “That’s not the only thing my hands are good at.”

Laura stared at her. Coming from someone like LaFontaine, that sentence would mean something entirely different than if someone like Danny said it. She wasn’t sure which meaning Carmilla intended here. Could Carmilla be…?

“Wh — what?” Laura stuttered. Heat flooded to her cheeks, and she forced herself to stop that train of thought. Her own preference was one thing, but projecting that onto other people was toeing a dangerous line.

Carmilla grinned. “I also play guitar and piano.”

Laura blinked. “Oh, cool, I play piano too,” Laura laughed, still somewhat thrown by Carmilla’s words.

That sort of sentence is something she could probably find in her…No, stop, she wasn’t going to think about that here.

She saw Carmilla frown at her, so she smiled back nervously. 

Carmilla, still frowning, closed her book, stood up, and walked back inside. “See you tomorrow, cutie,” she said as the door shut.

“Did she just say goodbye to me?” Laura asked her journal. The journal, of course, didn’t respond, so she shrugged and opened it back up.

Laura, still bewildered by the last five minutes, flipped back to yesterday’s empty page and wrote  _ That’s not the only thing my hands are good at. _ She paused, and underneath it she added  _ see you tomorrow cutie. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Updates (should be) every Saturday evening. 
> 
> Follow us on tumblr @ carmunism (Scarlett) and stealth-mountain (Mark).


	5. Game Night Gone Awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’d just rather not have to deal with moping right now."  
> /  
> “Intra-house unity!”  
> /  
> “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you, my dear child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: talk of violence/murder

Will slammed the door to his room. His father was completely correct. Will  _ was _ a failure. He was still living at home. He was boring. He sucked at his job—he hadn’t made any arrests in the last five months. He was a failure to his family. He wished he could apologize to Papa without letting him down, but it would only serve to make him more of a failure.

Will walked over to his window and looked out.

Fucking  _ Carmilla _ didn’t have any of that shit. She didn’t live with Papa, she could play music,  _ she _ was in college—Papa would never let him forget this. He hadn’t even gotten into the electrician’s apprenticeship program. The only thing wrong with her was she didn’t have a husband. She didn’t apologize to Papa for anything. Fucking bitch.

To be fair, she hadn’t killed Maman either.

_ Merde _ but this just made him so much angrier! He kicked his bed.

Ouch.

He sat down on it.

If only he could make her pay for all the shit she put him through. Show Papa that she had  _ some _ flaws, show Papa that he could make an arrest. Make something of himself.

How could he do that?

Plant some pornos in her room? No, that wouldn’t work… she hadn’t been in the house since August and Papa had searched her room after her departure.

What if he claimed she had plagiarized her papers?

What if he burn all of her college books? That way she can’t do any work!

But she could just find things in the library. Also she could get them replaced… and he could be arrested.

_ Why was this so hard?! _ Putain…

Why does Papa love her so much? All she does is leave and rebel and smoke. She doesn’t even have a husband, and Papa knows so much about her but he still loves her more than he loves me.

Will laid down, covering his head with the blankets.

_ He _ hadn’t done  _ anything _ like what she did. He  _ listened _ to Papa and did what Papa wanted him to do.

_ Why _ did he have to have killed Maman? Maman, the love of Papa’s life. He had single-handedly ruined Papa’s life. He supposed he deserved it.

That gave him an idea. What if he said Carmilla had a murder plot against Papa? That she had worked with the Ruskies to bring down the Milwaukee police department and to get closer to Senator McCarthy? To kill  _ him _ as well, for speaking against the commie threat?

Would that even work? How could he convince Papa of such a thing?

He supposed she did always wear red of some sort.

 

~~~

 

It was difficult for Laura to mask her tears as she stormed up the porch steps. Ordinarily, she would have already started crying, this not being the first time she had left class upset, but Carmilla was sitting outside with a cigarette between her fingers. Ignoring her in order to keep from dealing with the inevitable teasing that would come along with any communication, Laura went inside and dropped her books on the kitchen table before plopping down on the couch.

She took in a shaky breath and looked up at the ceiling, a single tear escaping and rolling down her cheek. Her professor for a writing refinement course had handed back her essay with a D. She hadn’t thought of it that much due to seeing her other courses as more deserving of her time. Hopefully those projects would come back with better marks…

The sound of the door opening shook Laura out of her self pity. Carmilla poked her head inside, an eyebrow raised as she made eye contact with Laura.

“Do you want to join me out here?” Carmilla asked.

“Will you be smoking?” Laura grunted out, wary of Carmilla’s motives. A shake of the other girl’s head is enough to get Laura to pull herself together and follow Carmilla back on the porch.

“I’m surprised you’re being nice to me while it’s still light out. Aren’t you afraid you might get caught?” Laura quipped as she sat down, her arms crossed.

Carmilla snorted. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong? Not that I particularly care, I’d just rather not have to deal with moping right now.”

Laura barely opened her mouth to respond before Carmilla continued. “Actually, don’t even tell me. I’m going to show you how I keep myself together.” She pointed to a man walking on the opposite side of the street. “All you do is pick a person, and you make up a story for them. You write, right? Pretend you have to write an article about a stranger.”

Laura glanced at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye, again thrown for a loop by the other woman’s uncharacteristic kindness. Or whatever you would call a lack of animosity.

“Well that man is a banker. His wife is a divorcee, and they have two kids, only one of them is his,” Laura started. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully before continuing. “No, neither of them are his, and he’s leaving home to go and cheat on his wife. That’s why he’s walking instead of driving.”

“Why is he cheating?”

“Because his wife still thinks about her old husband.”

Carmilla whistled. “That’s pretty bland, nerd.”

Laura snorted. “I’d like to see you come up with something. I was being realistic but saucy.”

“Saucy? You’re something else, kid,” Carmilla chuckled. “Okay, that woman there.” She nodded to a neighbor out tending to her front garden. “She’s making sure the flowers are doing alright, considering their fertilizer is her late husband; because how dreadful would it be if she were to kill them as well?”

Laura gasped, but grinned all the same. “Why did she kill him?”

Carmilla clicked her tongue and hummed. “He walked in on her playing the violin.”

Laura frowned, but the other girl winked and Laura had to laugh it off. Carmilla was just teasing her. Yet it wasn’t in a malicious way, and Laura couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through her at the idea that cold and callous Carmilla Karnstein was not quite what she seemed.

“Actually, he probably walked in on her touching herself, and in an embarrassed rage she bludgeoned him with a bedside lamp,” Carmilla said in such an off-handed tone that Laura almost didn’t react. Almost. Yet another small intake of breath was all she could find herself doing. Something about Carmilla just made such crude things take on a more playful air when she said them. Laura couldn’t quite put her finger on why that was.

Maybe Laura had simply gotten off on the wrong foot with this woman. She really wasn’t as awful as she put herself out to be.

 

~~~

 

Laura stood by in the doorway to the living room and dramatically held up a box over her head. “Game night!”

Danny and Carmilla frowned at her. “Why?” they said at the same time, in almost identical deadpan tones. They glared at one another before looking back at Laura.

Laura grinned. “Intra-house unity!” She marched over to the center of the living room and set the box down on the ground.

Elsie rolled her eyes and moved to go upstairs, but Laura blocked her. “Oh, no,” Laura said threateningly. “We’re all playing. Even you, Elsie.” With a flourish, Laura took the cover off the box.

“Scrabble?!” Elsie said incredulously. “I’m a  _ German _ major, and I’ve never played Scrabble before. Can we play something else instead?”

“Oh, no,” Danny laughed. “No, we’re playing this. I’m an English major. I  _ always _ win.”

“Oh really?” Carmilla smirked. “I’m a philosophy major. I read Hegel regularly. Good fucking luck.”

This wasn’t Laura’s plan. This was for intra-house unity, not increased competition. Still, she already started this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

That dream was dashed merely five minutes later.

“That’s not a fucking word, Carmilla!” Danny shouts.

“Yes it is!” Carmilla yells back. “Have you even _read_ _Siddhartha_?! It’s used in there!”

“Sid-who?!”

“Byron also used it! I thought you were an English major! Shouldn’t you have read Byron?”

“Of  _ course _ I’ve read Byron, but I think I’d remember if he used a word like ‘Weltschmerz’!”

“It’s also a word in German literature,” Elsie pipes up. “Jean Paul coined it.”

“Yes,  _ German,” _ Danny sighed. “Not English!” She turned to Carmilla. “Use a different one!”

“No! It’s a perfectly valid word!”

“Use a different fucking word, you entitled ass!”

“Entitled?! Excuse me?” Carmilla folded her arms.

“Yes,  _ entitled,” _ Danny shoots back. “You can’t deny that you’re entitled and arrogant.”

“Oh, really,” Carmilla replied. “Why the  _ fuck _ would  _ I _ be entitled?”

Danny laughs mirthlessly. “Are you joking? Your father is the  _ police commissioner. _ He’s the boss of  _ both my and Laura’s fathers. _ That’s why you think you’re better than us. Your daddy’s money probably got you anything you wanted.”

Laura flinched, not daring to say anything. Whatever she could possibly say would make the situation worse.

Carmilla shot to her feet. “Fuck you!” she shouted. “You don’t know anything about my life! Anything!”

Danny stood up. “Yeah, sure!” she yelled back. “I don’t know anything, but I bet I know who knows everything!”

Laura gasped. “Danny, no, stop,” she tried.

To no avail. “Your father!”

Silence. Carmilla stepped toward Danny over the Scrabble board. “What did you say,” she growled.

“Your father,” Danny responded in kind. “Your father, who you probably tell everything about us to kiss his ass and get dirt on our dads. Are we supposed to think it’s some sort of  _ coincidence _ that all of their coworkers from before your dad took over got fired? Maybe you were spying on  _ their _ kids too!” She pushed Carmilla. Carmilla stepped back, putting her hands up into a fighting stance.

Danny threw a punch. Carmilla easily dodged it. Danny threw another one. Carmilla took two steps back and said, “Are you sure about this?”

Danny smirked. “What, not gonna fight back?” She kicked the Scrabble board aside, and approached Carmilla.

Elsie tried to but in, saying, “Stop, Danny, she’s—”

Carmilla interrupted her. She snorted, her eyes flashing dangerously. “If I were spying on you for my father, this would be a damn huge mistake. Assault and battery? This is actually technically assault right now. I’d suggest… stop, perhaps.”

Laura stood up and gripped Danny’s arm. “Danny, stop.”

“What, siding with her now, Laura?” Danny snarled. “Thought you hated her.”

Laura cleared her throat. “Danny. She’s right. This is technically assault. Stop.”

Danny huffed. “Fuck her, though.”

Laura pulled on Danny’s arm, turning Danny towards her. “Danny, no. Go to your room.”

“Are you my mother now, Laura?!”

“Yes,” Laura said, exasperated. “Go!”

“I hate you,” Danny growled at all of them, but turned and went up the steps.

“I would leave,” Laura said to Elsie and Carmilla. “I’m so sorry about Danny, but… can you go somewhere over the next hour or two?”

“Don’t have to tell us twice,” Elsie grumbled. “C’mon, Carmilla.”

The dark-haired girl gave Laura a cold stare before following Elsie out the door.

 

~~~

 

Laura found herself suddenly looking forward to Fridays. Spending time with Carmilla, making small jokes, and just enjoying the other’s company was relaxing and honestly one of the best ways to start her weekend.

As she walked outside with yet another book, she noticed Carmilla flinch and glance at her.

“Hey,” Laura said, somewhat questioningly.

Carmilla fiddled with her cigarette case. What was wrong with her?

“Hey?” Laura repeated, stepping closer to the other girl, who seemed to be refusing to make eye contact.

“Hello,” Carmilla said with a clipped tone.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Carmilla sighed, and it took a while before she finally turned her head to Laura.  “Why are you here?”

“It’s Friday? We always do this on Friday?” Laura motioned between them.

“Shouldn’t you want to spend time with Danny? Why do you want to be here with me, instead of inside with your gal pal?”

Laura looked at her quizzically. “Because… I think you’re pretty cool?”

Carmilla snorted. “Right. Which is clearly why you hate me.”

Laura shook her head. Where was this coming from? She had finally gotten past Carmilla’s walls! “What made you think I hate you? I don’t hate you.”

“Your best fucking friend said you did,” Carmilla sneered.

Laura exhaled loudly. For all the times Carmilla had called her a child, the other girl sure had a way of coming across as a five-year-old. “Danny doesn’t like you, and I didn’t like you either at the start, but… Now? After we’ve talked and kidded around a bit? I think you’re pretty cool. Especially after you helped me out on Monday with the whole people-watching thing.”

Laura thought she saw Carmilla almost smile, but that quickly turned into a frown as she cast her eyes back out on the street. “You don’t think I’m spying on you for my father?” The bitterness was obvious in her tone.

Laura laughed. “Of course not! That’s honestly the most ridiculous idea I’ve heard. Sure, I love my dad, but I wouldn’t spy on you for him.”

Carmilla started picking on a thread in her jeans. “Well, fun fact for you, I hate my father and rarely talk to him unless I have to.” She let out a shaky breath.

Oh. That changed things. Laura coughed, trying to gather her thoughts before she rambled herself back into Carmilla’s bad graces. “Well, you helped me out. Do you want to do the story thing again? You know, what we did on Monday?”

Carmilla shook her head. “No, not as many people are out right now. It wouldn’t be much help. There’s really only you and me.”

“We could make up stories about… the trees? I don’t know, it was fun.”

“Nice try, cutie, but on Monday it wasn’t for fun. I simply didn’t want to listen to any sniveling children.”

Laura was silent for a moment, then asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one, why?”

Laura grinned. “And you call me a child? I’m twenty-two!”

“Someone being a child isn’t necessarily indicated by how many years they’ve been alive,” Carmilla scoffed, taking out a cigarette from her case.

“Oh, really?” Laura eyed the cigarette warily. She thought Carmilla was going to stop smoking around her, but then again, everything between them had almost been ruined.

Carmilla must have noticed Laura’s staring. “Is it alright?”

Laura waved her off and Carmilla lit her cigarette with a match. “As I was saying, yes, really. For instance, I’m reading  _ The Stranger _ by Albert Camus. What are  _ you _ reading?” 

Caught. Laura grimaced, but held up her book.  _ “The Scarlet Slipper Mystery.” _

Carmilla appeared to make a point of exhaling to the side so that the smoke didn’t billow onto Laura. Or maybe Laura was just reading too much into the other girl’s actions. She seemed to be doing that quite often as of late.

“Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys?” Carmilla asked with a smirk.

“Nancy Drew.”

“I bet it’s the new one for this year.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, blushing.

“See what I mean? Child.” Carmilla took a victorious drag of her cigarette, trying not to smile.

Laura glared at her playfully. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you, my dear  _ child.” _

Carmilla gave in and laughed. Laura never wanted to stop hearing that sound. She grinned back, and as Carmilla’s laugh tapered off into a chuckle and finally a smile, Laura felt her breath catch slightly. It wasn’t just the fact that the genuine smile pulled at Carmilla’s features in a way that made Laura’s heart stop, but the fact that she knew Carmilla was smiling because of  _ her _ … that made her heart soar. She wished she had one of those new personal cameras so she could capture those rare moments forever, although it’s not as if Carmilla would ever in a million years let Laura photograph her. But a girl can dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are every Saturday evening  
> follow us on tumblr @ carmunism (Scarlett) and stealth-mountain (Mark)


	6. Tension Builds; Fight Breaks Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Are you a vampire?”_  
>  /  
>  _“You know that not everyone is out to kill you, right?”_  
>  _“That’s what you think.”_  
>  /  
>  _“Are you sure that’s the best place to keep your protection? How are you going to be safe if they’re all the way up here and not on your person?”_  
>  /  
>  _Yet the feelings were there, and the look in Carmilla’s eyes seemed to be all that was needed to send Laura spiraling into these thoughts. The look that kept Laura up at night sometimes._  
>  _Laura wasn’t sure who moved first…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Misgendering, period-typical racism, mention of death.

The first thought in Laura’s head as she heard the door close behind Danny was that for the first time in a while, she was finally home alone with nothing to do. With a little hop to her step, she made her way back to the upright piano that the previous owners of the house had left in the living room.

As she settled down on the bench, Laura pondered which piece she wanted to play. She idly warmed up with a few scales before falling into a familiar and long-since-memorized rendition of “Moonlight Sonata.” Laura sighed contently when the final notes faded out, and she went up to her room to grab her file of sheet music. She rifled through the papers, debating what she wanted to practice while she wasn’t under the pressure of other people hearing her mistakes, before deciding on a piece that she had been working on with the old and out of tune piano back at her father’s place: “Leyenda” by Isaac Albeniz. As fringe as it was, she really liked it, although it was challenging to play.

Very challenging indeed. As she made her way through the first part, she realized she forgot to read the key signature, and thus didn’t play the b-flats.

_ Oh well. _ She decided to keep going, but barely managed to fumble her way through the chords, and on the arpeggios, her fingers couldn’t quite hit the correct keys.

In a small burst of rage, Laura slammed her fists down on the keys, the clanking only bringing a mild catharsis to her frustration.

“I personally like that ending better,” Carmilla quipped from behind her.

The sudden and unannounced presence of her housemate nearly startled Laura out of her seat.

“Oh Jes—ah, cra—” Laura stumbled over not trying to curse, and Carmilla snickered as she strolled to lean against the wall beside the piano.

“Just say ‘fuck,’ kid. You sound like less of a dunce.”

Laura narrowed her eyes and tried to think of a comeback, but as always she couldn’t think of one quick enough. So instead, she turned the attention on Carmilla, which she knew the other woman loathed.

“What are you even doing home? Aren’t you normally out with Elsie doing whatever it is you two do when you’re not eating all of my leftovers?”

Carmilla simply shrugged, and Laura focused a second wave of anger into rolling her eyes. She knew Carmilla thrived off of annoyance.

“I do like the way you play, though. Despite all the times you absolutely messed up.” 

Laura shook her head. “You say that as if you could play it any better.”

“Well, since you brought it up, come with me.” Carmilla made her way towards the stairs, and without a second thought, Laura followed.

Carmilla lead them to her room, and Laura stopped in the doorway, unsure if entering was toeing a line that Carmilla didn’t want crossed.

“Are you a vampire?” Carmilla asked from where she knelt on the floor beside her bed.

Laura was caught off guard by the randomness of the question. “What? No!”

“You don’t need to be invited in. Stop standing there looking like you’re lost.” Carmilla pulled a large case from under her bed as Laura cautiously entered the room. She looked around, both surprised and underwhelmed at the same time by the lack of personality. Her walls were completely blank, and the bookshelf held only a handful of books. That emptiness was counteracted by the alarming combination of clothes and garbage that scattered the floor and piled on top of the desk.

Laura had hoped Carmilla didn’t pick up on any exterior reaction Laura had to the mess, but she was rarely that lucky.

“Say a word and I’m not going to show you,” Carmilla said, and Laura’s attention was brought back to the room’s inhabitant and the guitar case on her bed.

Carmilla opened the guitar case, and as she took out the guitar and placed it on her lap, she raised her eyebrows at Laura. “Well? Are you going to say anything?”

Laura shook her head earnestly, miming zipping up her lips and throwing away the key. Carmilla smiled in response and turned to tune her guitar.

“Wait, why do you have to tune it? Do you not play it often?” Laura blurted.

Carmilla glared at her. “What did I say?”

“Sorry,” Laura said sheepishly and covered her mouth.

Carmilla let out a small laugh. “It’s okay, cutie, I meant that you shouldn’t tell anyone. Anyways…”

She let out a chord, inhaled deeply, and began playing.

_ It’s the same piece, _ Laura realized.  _ It’s the same piece, only this is on guitar. Gosh darn it, she’s really good. _ And good she was. Laura watched her fingers fly across the strings and her left hand contort itself into positions she didn’t even know hands could take. The piece was a sight to behold played on the guitar. Though Laura knew that it was originally composed as a piano piece, she thought that it was far better on the guitar.

As Carmilla concluded the piece with the final chord, Laura started clapping.

“That was amazing, Carmilla,” she gushed. “I didn’t know they had that piece on guitar! And your hands are really good. Your fingers are so… nimble.”

Carmilla stared at her for a fraction of a second and winked. “So I’ve been told, sunshine.”

Laura tried to keep herself from blushing at what she thought was a blatant hint at something… that they might have had  _ in common,  _ but ultimately failed. She cleared her throat to try to distract Carmilla, who began smirking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Laura choked out.

Carmilla’s smirk quickly turned into a frown. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean, judging by how…” She cut herself off.

_ Judging by what? _ Laura wanted to say, but she didn’t really want to know, even if the other woman had figured it out.

 

~~~

 

Growing up as the only child of a single father was something that Laura attributed to her near-constant need to be around people. Sure, she enjoyed time alone every now and again, but she found herself more comfortable in the presence of another person. Something about even comfortable silence had a calming effect on her.

This made it hard for her to do her schoolwork at night when Danny was already asleep and Carmilla and Elsie were usually out doing Lord-knows-what. But that night, Elsie was in bed—Laura could hear her snoring—and hearing the door open and shut earlier that evening meant Carmilla was out on the porch.

Desperate for any human interaction, Laura contemplated going downstairs and joining her housemate. However, it was Monday, and she didn’t know if she should break the only-Friday habit. Despite Carmilla seemingly warming up to her, Laura still wasn’t quite sure where the two of them stood. Worst case scenario, Carmilla didn’t  _ despise  _ her. Ideally, though, they could be friends.

After half an hour more of her not getting anything done, Laura finally relented. She gathered her things and made her way outside, smiling to herself as she saw Carmilla’s silhouette on the porch. Carmilla put her cigarette out on the railing before flicking it out into the street.

“It’s not a Friday, sugar,” she muttered, but Laura could tell by her tone that she was smiling too.

“Yeah, well I couldn’t really focus, what with Elsie’s snoring and all,” Laura replied as she settled down on the bench.

“What is tonight’s light reading?” Carmilla remarked, turning around and walking towards where Laura sat.

“Actually, I’m analyzing articles on the racial integration of schools in DC and Baltimore,” Laura shot back, a playful smirk on her lips when she saw Carmilla’s eyebrows shoot up. “They were all written two or so weeks ago, some of them for the movement, some of them against it.” Laura shuffled through the folder of newspaper clippings and pulled one out. “This angry one in particular uses the word ‘negroes’ eighteen times for some reason, whereas the positive ones call them ‘African Americans’. That in and of itself is very interesting, but not the assignment.” 

The look on Carmilla’s face was intense but unreadable. It occurred to Laura that Carmilla might not have the same opinion on race relations as herself, and she was suddenly afraid she had opened a potential can of worms.

“What’s the assignment, then?” Carmilla pressed as she sat down on the bench next to Laura.

“Well, I don’t know if you listen to the radio or anything, but integration will be in full swing next week Monday. So we’re supposed to read these old articles that are extremely opinionated and predictive, and compare them with what will actually happen. It’s like an exercise on how to better write articles on predicting future events as compared to the reporting of things that have already happened.”

It wasn’t until she was done that Laura realized she had been rambling again, but the small smile twitching at Carmilla’s lips told her that perhaps the other girl didn’t seem to mind her running her mouth.

“Sounds fascinating, cutie.”

Despite the seemingly demeaning pet name, Laura could tell that Carmilla was—in a rare lack of sarcasm—being sincere. Laura felt a blush creep up to her cheeks at the compliment and mumbled out a dumb “thanks.”

They sat in the familiar and serene silence that Laura had come to associate with Friday evenings as Carmilla flipped through her ever-mysterious leather bound book and Laura jotted down notes for her essay.

In a disappointingly short time, the articles became repetitive and Laura could feel exhaustion spread through her. Begging for something other than race issues to read, her eyes wandered over to the book in Carmilla’s hands. She briefly reprimanded herself for being so nosey, but her investigative nature typically outweighed her apprehensions and this was no exception. Unfortunately, and interestingly, enough, the text was in another language.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know you were bilingual!” Laura exclaimed, only to instantly regret it.

Carmilla’s head snapped up simultaneously as she shut the book. “You have no concept of privacy, do you?”

Laura leaned back in shock at the other girl’s harsh tone. “What? I don’t even know what it says! I don’t speak German or whatever that is.”

“It’s  _ Polish _ , and you  _ just  _ admitted to reading over my shoulder, you nimrod.”

The insult stung Laura more than she would like to admit, but she held her chin high. Carmilla seemed to be all bark and no bite, and Laura could deal with a few rude words. But there she was, on the brink of dashing her progress yet again. She needed to act fast.

“I apologized. I understand that you want to be mysterious and weird, but I didn’t mean anything by it!” Laura said. “I just want to get to know you more.”

Her words seemed to take the fight out of Carmilla, who sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was she annoyed? Yes. But not angry. That was a victory.

“You want to know me?” Carmilla said in a quiet voice, her eyes scanning the street.

“Well, yeah. That’s how you make friends!” Laura nudged the other girl’s shoulder with her own. “What if I told you more about myself?”

Carmilla was quiet, but Laura was starting to piece together that maybe her tendency to fill Carmilla’s silences was something that drew the other woman to her.

“So, you probably haven’t noticed because you’re never home,”  _ way to start off with a backhanded insult, Hollis, _ “I mean, because I’m sure you have important or fun things to do. Not that I notice when you are and aren’t home because that would be creepy right? Anyways, I go out to dinner with two close friends the last Sunday of every month. They’re both fantastic, and I bet you would get along with Susan like two bugs in a rug. Once you and I become good friends, you should meet them. Maybe not at a formal dinner because that’s usually reserved for just the three of us, but maybe at a cocktail party at their home some time?”

“Do I look like the kind of person who makes friends easily?” Carmilla mumbled.

Laura rolled her eyes. “You know that not everyone is out to kill you, right?”

“That’s what you think.”

The comment gave Laura pause. “What?”

“Nothing. Don’t you have an essay to read for?”

Carmilla’s question seemed to serve as an informal end to Laura’s attempt at getting information out of her, so Laura returned to her articles.

Somewhere between a passage on the “scientific” reasons why black people were less intelligent and one on how they carried different diseases than whites, Laura fell asleep.

She was in her childhood home, her father in his chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Laura tried to talk to him, but her words kept coming out garbled and quiet, as if she was trying to speak underwater. Her father became frustrated at Laura’s incompetence and crushed the glass. Black liquid oozed from his hand filling up Laura’s vision and spilling into her mouth. She tried to scream for help, but her father couldn’t hear her.

In the distance, a gentle voice sung her name and she swam toward it as she felt liquid fill her lungs. The voice grew louder and more urgent, until something snapped.

She jolted, someone’s hands on her shoulders and her reading materials scattered across the wood panels of the porch. 

“Hey, Laura,” Carmilla gave her a gentle shake and repeated her name a few more times. “Laura, you’re dreaming, it was just a dream.”

Laura’s frantic eyes met Carmilla’s, and her erratic breath caught in her throat. Carmilla gingerly brushed stray hair behind Laura’s ear and Laura could have sworn that time had stopped.

“Are you alright, Laura?” There it was again; her name. Coupled with the look of concern in Carmilla’s eyes, Laura wasn’t sure if her nightmare had just morphed into an abruptly more pleasant dream or if she was actually awake.

“Carm…” Laura whispered back, feeling tears unwillingly build in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry. I can deal with night terrors, but I will not deal with sobbing.”

Laura let out a small laugh, but her lower lip still quivered. She sniffled a bit and wiped the budding tears away. The movement caused Carmilla’s hands to fall back into her own lap, and Laura tried not to focus on the tight feeling in her chest when that happened.

“Let’s get you up into bed, you snivelling mess.”

 

~~~

 

Before Mrs. Lawrence got a day job as a secretary for a law firm, she would make her husband lunches to take to work. Yet due to her hours, it became increasingly rare that Mrs. Lawrence had the time. However, she occasionally managed to put together something for Danny to stop by the house and pick up for Frank. Both women found those special lunches made Mr. Lawrence much happier at the end of the day.

On one such special day, a Wednesday in late September, Danny tried to make her way past Kirsch’s begging, but was unfortunately met with an empty desk where her father usually was.

“Please don’t tell me there’s another meeting,” she groaned.

Kirsch shrugged in response. “Top shelf case that’s wicked secret. I’m not even supposed to be telling you there  _ is _ a case, but that’s just how much I like you.” He winked, and Danny rolled her eyes.

“I’m not leaving this bag alone with you.”

“Good call.” He got out of his chair with a grunt and strolled over to where Danny leaned against her father’s desk. “Between you and me, I hear the case may or may not have to do with Joe McCarthy.”

Danny was taken aback by the officer’s complete disregard for confidentiality. “Kirsch, you idiot! You’re not supposed to tell me, why the hell did you just tell me?”

“What can I say, your good looks forced it outta me. Or maybe I’m proving how dangerously I live. Are you in love with me yet, D-bear?”

“God, you’re disgusting. Never call me that again.”

Kirsch opened his mouth, probably to spew more ignorant “flirting”, when Will stumbled in.

“How late am I?” His speech was slightly slurred as he slumped into his chair.

“All the bigwigs are in a meeting with your pop right now, so it’s just us little guys. I don’t think anyone even noticed,” Kirsch said. Will scoffed and Kirsch made his way back over to his friend, temporarily abandoning his advances on Danny.

Finally, the meeting released, and after an apology from her father, she gave him his lunch and kiss on the cheek, and left before Kirsch could say anything else to her.

 

~~~

 

Cool autumn air flowed through Laura’s open window as she sat on her bed reading. Just as she was getting to a good part, though, the stiff scent of cigarette smoke wafted up to her, giving away Carmilla’s location.

Laura contemplated going down to join her. They were friends now, and sitting outside reading would be fun, especially with Carmilla there. Either way, she was going to be smelling the smoke.

As she walked through the front door and sat down on the bench, Carmilla turned abruptly. “Why are you here?”

Laura frowned at her. “It’s a nice night. What’s with the attitude?”

Carmilla frowned back. “I thought last Monday was a one-time thing.”

“What?”

“It’s not Friday.”

“So?”

“Don’t you usually… not sit with me on days that aren’t Friday?”

“I sat with you last week, remember?”

“Again, I thought that was only a one-off because you couldn’t focus.”

“Well, maybe we could do this more often. I’m sitting with you now.”

“But why?”

Laura shrugged and considered asking why Carmilla cared so much, but she decided to just answer the question outright. “Because I think you’re pretty cool.”

Carmilla took a drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke away. “Thanks, cutie.”

Laura opened her book and continued reading. She couldn’t stop now that she was at the climax. It was a book she hadn’t read before, but she was very much enjoying it. The research she had done for the integration article helped her appreciate the situation of the main character far more. She was able to enjoy it much more than she would have had she read it earlier, anyway.

_ He steadied himself against the jamb of the door and Janie thought to run into him and grab his arm, but she saw the quick motion of taking aim and heard the click. Saw the ferocious look in his eyes and went mad with fear as he had done in the water that time. She threw up the barrel of the rifle in— _

“Whatcha readin’?” Carmilla’s voice interrupted as she put out her cigarette.. 

Laura frowned. “Excuse you, this is probably the climax of the book, very tense situation, so—”

“Okay, okay, geez, just wanted some conversation to distract myself from thoughts of the weird dinner I had with Elsie.” Carmilla put her hands up in mock surrender.

“Weird dinner? What happened?”

Carmilla shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure, but I think she thought I said something. I don’t know.”

“Hey, speaking of dinner, we’ve never eaten together since that time you first came to the house. We should have din—” Laura stopped abruptly. Would this seem like a date? She wasn’t sure, maybe she was reading into it. Carmilla raised her eyebrows. 

Just to be sure, Laura said, “We should have dinner with our dads. They work together?”

Carmilla stared at her in silence. “I don’t think so,” she said, flipping the lid to her cigarette case open and closed.

“What?” Laura said, confused.

“We talked about this,” Carmilla muttered. “Remember how I  _ don’t like my father?” _

Laura scoffed at herself. “Fudge, I forgot. Yes. Nevermind. Right.”

Carmilla didn’t respond, and turned away, fully opening her cigarette case and taking one out.

Laura, perturbed by the silence, cleared her throat and said, “Tough guy dad, then?”

“Excuse me?” Carmilla turned to glare at Laura.

“Your dad. He’s one of those tough guy types, then?”

Silence. Carmilla spun the unlit cigarette around in her fingers.

“Mine too,” Laura barreled on. “You know those hand wraps for boxing? He gave me one for every day of the week. And my present for college wasn’t a nice card and some money or a necklace or a nice set of pens. He got me nunchucks. Not that I’m ungrateful! It’s just kind of weird. Not the typical celebratory present you’d get your college-headed daughter, you know?”

Carmilla continued to stare at Laura, though the glare died down. “That’s…pretty strange, yes,” she conceded.   
Laura smiled tightly, still feeling awkward. “Want to see them?” she asked.

Carmilla sighed and stood up. “Lead the way.” She put away the cigarette as Laura marked her page and set the book down.

Laura grabbed Carmilla’s hand and dashed to her room, pulling Carmilla along. Carmilla wasn’t being particularly enthusiastic about this, but maybe making Carmilla laugh would be a better way to apologize than words.

When they got to Laura’s room, Laura made a beeline for her bed and crouched down to get something out from under it. She rummaged around, pushing boxes aside, looking for the one that held her self-defense gear.

“Aha!” she said, and pulled out a small box. “Wait a second.” She glanced at Carmilla and saw her with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you sure that’s the best place to keep your protection?” Carmilla asked wryly. “How are you going to be safe if they’re all the way up here and not on your person?”

Laura laughed quietly. “And when would I use them? This is Milwaukee-Downer College. Besides, I can take care of myself.” She finally pulled out the nunchucks and handed them to Carmilla, who examined them inquisitively.

Carmilla smirked. “I see what you mean. This is really weird of your Dad to do.”

“I know, right,” Laura said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the nunchucks out of Carmilla’s hands and stuffed them back into the box. She put the box back under her bed and kicked the other boxes into place.

As she turned to smile at Carmilla, she noticed the other woman examining the contents of her bedside table.

Laura’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?!” she exclaimed.

Carmilla full-on grinned at Laura and said, “Oh, nothing.” She winked and walked out the door.

That was  _ definitely _ a better response than a verbal apology would have had, but Laura hoped Carmilla hadn’t found… She shook her head.

 

~~~

 

As Laura collapsed onto the aesthetically-challenged couch with her book, she regretfully noted that Carmilla and Elsie’s shouting match upstairs hadn’t gotten any quieter, though she had moved downstairs to get away from it. After a few minutes of attempted focus, she gave up on tuning out the fight.

“—thought we had something! How could you?!” she heard Elsie shout.

“I’m not listening to this! You’re reading into shit and assuming things!” Carmilla shouted back.

“I’m  _ assuming _ things?! You said—!”

“Fuck off! I didn’t say anything!” Carmilla stormed down the stairs, and slammed the front door on the way out.

Laura stared at the door, bewildered, before putting the book down and getting up. It wasn’t lost on Laura that perhaps checking up on her housemate wasn’t the wisest idea, but she ventured out onto the porch regardless. It had more or less become  _ their _ place, so Laura hoped that maybe Carmilla would see her good intent.

Laura stood in the doorway, not fully presenting herself to the other woman, who’s anger radiated off of her in waves as she smoked. In the moonlight, Laura could see the faint glistening of a tear roll down Carmilla’s cheek, but it was swiftly wiped away.

“I uh, heard some of what was happening,” Laura started. “Are you okay?”

“Drop the act, cupcake. Why do you even ask so many goddamn questions?” Carmilla snapped, refusing to look Laura’s direction. “You’re not my father. I’m fine.”

Laura pressed her lips together and gave a small sigh. Obviously, Carmilla was, in fact, not fine (the way her hands shook as she played with her cigarette case were ample evidence to the contrary), but the nickname gave Laura the perfect idea for how to remedy the situation. Without another word, she ducked back inside and pulled the necessary ingredients out of the fridge.

Laura wasn’t one to brag—oh, who was she kidding: she was definitely one to brag. This was the one recipe from her mother’s cookbook she had managed to commit to memory, and she was damn proud of it.

As she mixed together the flour and eggs, her heart swelled with a melancholy nostalgia as she recalled her mother doing the same for her when she was upset. As if by second nature, Laura flitted around the kitchen, grabbing mixing bowls and cupcake tins, lighting the oven, and humming a song she heard on the radio the other day but couldn’t think of the name of for the life of her. In her preoccupation, she didn’t notice Carmilla standing in the doorway until the other woman spoke up.

“What’s this about?”

Laura jumped half a foot in the air, startled by Carmilla’s seemingly sudden appearance. 

“Oh, drat! I wanted these to be a surprise.”

“I ruin everything, don’t I?” Carmilla muttered, but a smile quirked at the corner of her lips, and that kept Laura from being embarrassingly defensive. Carmilla’s eyes were still bloodshot, too, and Laura briefly realized this was the first time she had seen the other girl cry.

“I just hate hearing friends fight, and I hope things get better. So I was making ‘Get Better’ cupcakes...” Laura trailed off.

“That’s disgustingly sweet and in character of you, cutie.” Carmilla quickly dipped her finger into the cake batter before Laura could swat her hand away.

“You’ll get sick if you keep that up!”

“I think I’ll live.” She managed to scoop another bit of batter, narrowly escaping a wooden spoon to the wrist.

“Then at worst you’re contaminating my near-perfect cupcakes, and I will not stand for that!”

Carmilla shrugged and lifted herself up to sit on the counter, which Laura had to restrain herself from commenting about. The smug expression on Carmilla’s face was both the beginning and the end of an argument Laura knew she already lost.

Laura managed to scoop the batter into the tin without losing any more to her housemate, and slid the pan into the oven. As she set the timer, she glanced over at Carmilla, who was tapping a rhythm out on the countertop.

“So we have 20 minutes until those are done. Want to help me make the frosting?” Laura asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Can it be chocolate?” Carmilla asked.

“We don’t have any cocoa, otherwise I’d say yes.”

“Oh, well, that’s a pity.” Carmilla shrugged. “I’m going to go back outside for a bit. I need another cigarette. Or five.”   
“Hey, wait!” Laura called. She grabbed a box of tissues from the counter and handed them to Carmilla, who was waiting with her hand on the doorknob.

Carmilla glared at her, but accepted the box. “If you tell anyone about this, cupcake, I’ll tell them about your collection of special books,” she threatened, and Laura blanched.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” There was no way Carmilla could know about  _ those _ novels. Laura hadn’t accidentally brought one out on the porch one night, had she? No, she wouldn’t have been so stupid. They were usually kept in her bedside drawer. Out of sight. Then it clicked. Carmilla must have seen them when Laura brought her into her room. Crap.

“Sure, sure,” Carmilla said, winking, and promptly walked out the door.

After the cupcakes were done baking and cooled, Laura hastily slapped on the buttercream (which was her own concoction) and brought two outside.

She sat down on the bench and tried to ignore the small pile of soiled tissues between her and Carmilla. “One special ‘Get Better’ cupcake.”

The other girl took a generous bite and moaned, the sound doing something to Laura that she proceeded to repress and ignore. “These are the best cupcakes I’ve eaten.”

“That’s because they’re special ‘Get Better’ cupcakes.”

Carmilla ignored the comment. “Where did you learn how to make these?”

Laura smiled and took a bite out of her cupcake. “My mom used to make these when I was sick or feeling down. We made them together for my dad too sometimes, and when she died, I got her recipe book, with recipes for all the foods she’d make. She was meticulous about keeping it updated, too…”

Carmilla smiled back at Laura. “I think I’ll keep you around. You know, for the food and such.”

Laura giggled. She spotted a bit of frosting by Carmilla’s mouth, grabbed a tissue, and reached over, but stopped when Carmilla flinched at the sudden movement.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Laura whispered. “You just have a bit of frosting.” She wiped it off, and as she threw the tissue onto the pile, Carmilla visibly relaxed.

They locked eyes, and Laura felt something in the air change. The smell of her baking mixed with cigarette smoke and Carmilla’s shampoo, and her eyes flitted down to Carmilla’s lips.

The moment lingered, Laura all but paralyzed with the grinding in her stomach.  Why was this happening to her? Surely Carmilla wasn’t  _ like her _ in that way. Leaning in and bowing into the dark voices in the back of her head would only result in complete and utter destruction of the fragile relationship she had worked so hard to form with the other girl.

Yet the feelings were there, and the look in Carmilla’s eyes seemed to be all that was needed to send Laura spiraling into these thoughts. The look that kept Laura up at night sometimes.

Laura wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was only a foot away from Carmilla when screeching tires a few streets over visibly startled both of them onto polar opposite ends of the bench.

“Well!” Laura said louder than she really wanted to. “It’s late I’m going to bed the rest of the cupcakes are in the kitchen goodnight!” She rambled out in record time before bolting inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Sorry about how late this is. Life happened for both of us, and there was this one scene that neither of us wanted to write, so we procrastinated writing it when we _did_ have time... (We still didn't write the scene.)
> 
> Updates should be...better now. Hopefully nothing else terrible will happen as it has been for the last four months.


End file.
